


Glass Towers of Stars

by sapph_trash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adventure, Altean Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Boys In Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Fantasy, Feels, Friendship/Love, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Love, M/M, Multi, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Romance, Screaming, True Love, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13231149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapph_trash/pseuds/sapph_trash
Summary: Lance Mcclain, an impulsive prince of Altea, finds himself faced with monsters created by reflections, and despite the wishes of King Alfor and his advisors, teams up with galra bodyguard Keith Kogane to save to world from a sweltering doom.





	Glass Towers of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!!
> 
> So first of all, thanks for checking this out. 
> 
> This fic is going to be updated chapter by chapter, and it’s heavily focused on the (practically canon) ship Klance as well as has fantasy elements to it. 
> 
> I’ve been writing since grade four, and to this day i’ve always had a passion for it. I also love reading, sleeping, eating and binging shows. I do photoshop and video edits for fandoms too so if you want to check it out, ask me about it! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!!!

He struck his pasty-grey hands out. A silent chill fell over the grey-white meadow, and as his bare feet rolled under the ice-crusted rocks that littered the ground and a shaky breath escaped him, an ice shard–long and jagged–soared from his fingertips.

His power activated, but for all the wrong reasons.

The ice shard plummeted through the glass mirror. 

His eyes widened. Breaths quickened. Would it get through?

Where the sharp edge struck the iridescent glass, cracks splintered, slowly, unwavering. 

Cracks continued to gather loud and clear on the glass. As though it were his own heart, though that had been broken many Deca-Phoeb’s ago.

This wasn’t meant to happen to him. He was the prince of Altea: Lance Mcclain. However he was the youngest of all the Mcclain’s: the annoying, obnoxious, and unnoticed one.

Maybe now they’d see him, now that he awakened his dormant powers that should have manifested long ago, when he was a child. Or perhaps they’d just scorn him for developing so late. 

The whole mirror divided into miniature sections of indiscriminate fractures. 

What was he doing out here in the first place? Right. He needed to get away from all of them: the royalty and nobles who attended the union meeting. It was more a party than a conference, and it felt way too claustrophobic in there.

There were simply too many people. 

Lance’s reflection gazed back at him in some sort of hazy, choppy blur: an ashen-white lump of luscious hair; two glimmering icy-blue eyes; a small, soft frown painted upon his rose-coloured lips. Through the mirror his reflection gazed back at him. It copied his actions. As he tightened his mauve-tinted cape around himself and sighed, his reflection did exactly that. 

Lance shuddered at the sight. But not as much as when the ice shard finally struck through the mirror and into his reflection’s intricately-designed white blouse. Blood spread around the shard and stained the purely-coloured shirt. 

His reflection fell silently, unwavering, a gasp escaping its mouth, ones identical to his own. 

Owls hooted in the distance. The wind wavered, and the trees bustling and whistling under the heavy breeze. He stumbled back. 

Stumbled and stumbled. Lance’s feet thudded against the forest grounds. His ears rang louder than a chime of a doorbell, and his head buzzed like that of a bee–ones from that Earth planet that had those beautiful oceans. 

He wished he was there. That one visit was perhaps the best trip he’d ever experienced.

A union gathering? His laughter slashed through the cold silence that filtered through the forest walls. Union for what? It wasn’t like they could stop whatever that creature was. They weren’t safe. Nobody was, at all.

It was quite ironic, actually. He adored mirrors. Had an abundance amount placed in his palace room, and the only thing that would stop those creatures–the Mors–the ones who could take in the form of one’s reflection, was to break the mirrors. 

A scream sounded in the distance. Lance’s breath hitched. Who could that be?

He swivelled around and, without a second thought, dashed through the gloom-lit woods. His eyes clenched shut. There wouldn’t be any wolves out here, would there? A smile jerked on his face. That was the least of his worries.

The screams that resounded through his ears became clearer as he neared the castle grounds. 

“Prince,” the voice called out. It was dark, guttural, and harsh. “Where are you?” 

His mouth snapped into a hard line. Step one to survive was to never let the enemy know he was there. He’d already failed on that.

As Lance sprinted through the deep woods, a whisper sounded. A slithering sensation wrapped around his back, as though someone were tracing it. He shuddered. 

“Prince?” the voice called out again.

His resolve broke soon enough.

“Here.” He sobbed. “I’m right here.” 

Whoever it was, he only hoped they’d find him soon. 

Fallen branches and sticks mocked him as he tripped over them. He grasped onto the tree trunks, the roughness scraping against his scorching hands. Yet even as harsh breaths escaped him, and pain burned in his chest, he heaved himself up and pushed himself forward.

What was the point of starting, if he was going to fail?

Before he knew it his feet follow the sweet voice that called his name, though it was rough and deep, it sounded like a birdsong coming in lulling melodies. Sweet release from this horror at last. A new smile painted itself upon his dirt-ridden face, rose-pink lips shadowed by the dappled light.

Finally the origin of the voice came into view. It was one of the guards. Broad-chested, clad in stark leather black, and scars ridden all over his visible skin. His face was concealed under shadows lit by the forest.

“I’m here,” Lance croaked out. 

The guard came into view. His face was marred with burn marks. His hair was concealed by a tight hood. 

He must have been one of the many guards sent after him, once his cousin noticed he was gone. Princess Allura of the royal family of Altea was the only one who ever cared to notice him. She was probably the only one who was concerned. The others had reputation to protect. If he was seen running off into the night like a madman, it would be tainted. And that would be very bad indeed. At least, for them.

Anyway, they didn’t have to worry about that for much longer. He wasn’t planning on going back into the woods for a long time. Perhaps never.

Lance’s escape from the partygoers was ruined, but at least he knew that in order to stay safe he had to stay away from the rumbling abyss of deeply-rooted forests. 

Speaking of, where did the mirror even come from? It was in the middle of the damn woods. In all honesty, he didn’t want to know. 

The guard clutched onto his arm in a tight clasp. “Come on, prince,” he said. “You’re in big trouble.”

Lance winced. Not another scolding.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to leave any comments on questions you might have, or any general ones. 
> 
> I’ll be asking questions about every chapter, if you want to answer it:
> 
> What do you bet lance’s favourite colour is?


End file.
